Harry Potter And The Philosopher's Stone Quotes

To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.

Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?” “Throw it away and punch him on the nose," Ron suggested.

After all, to the well-organised mind, death is but the next great adventure.

Strange how short-sighted being invisible can make you.

I knew it! I knew it! ” “Are we allowed to speak yet?” said Ron grumpily. Hermione ignored him. “Nicolas Flamel,” she whispered dramatically, “is the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone!” This didn’t have quite the effect she’d expected. “The what?” said Harry and Ron. “Oh, honestly, don’t you two read? Look — read that, there.

Harry -- yer a wizard. I'm a what?

CUSTOMER: Which was the first Harry Potter book? BOOKSELLER: The Philosopher’s Stone. CUSTOMER: And the second? BOOKSELLER: The Chamber of Secrets. CUSTOMER: I’l take The Chamber of Secrets. I don’t want The Philosopher’s Stone. BOOKSELLER: Have you already read that one? CUSTOMER: No, but with series of books I always find they take a while to really get going. I don’t want to waste my time with the useless introductory stuff at the beginning. BOOKSELLER: The story in Harry Potter actually starts right away. Personally, I do recommend that you start with the first book – and it’s very good. CUSTOMER: Are you working on commission? BOOKSELLER: No. CUSTOMER: Right. How many books are there in total? BOOKSELLER: Seven. CUSTOMER: Exactly. I’m not going to waste my money on the first book when there are so many others to buy. I’l take the second one. BOOKSELLER: . . . If you’re sure. (One week later, the customer returns) BOOKSELLER: Hi, did you want to buy a copy of The Prisoner of Azkaban? CUSTOMER: What’s that? BOOKSELLER: It’s the book after The Chamber of Secrets. CUSTOMER: Oh, no, definitely not. I found that book far too confusing. I ask you, how on earth are children supposed to understand it if I can’t? I mean, who the heck is that Voldemort guy anyway? No. I’m not going to bother with the rest. BOOKSELLER: . . .

It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that.

you’re pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed – or worse, expelled.

So – that’s sort of like basketball on broomsticks with six hoops, isn’t it?’ ‘What’s basketball?’ said Wood curiously. ‘Never mind,’ said Harry quickly.

I hope you’re pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed – or worse, expelled.

The wand chooses the wizard.

I always said he was off his rocker,’ said Ron, looking quite impressed at how mad his hero was.

No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons or phoenixes are quite the same.

Of course I loved you . . . and I knew that it would happen all over again . . . that where I loved, I would cause irreparable damage. I am no fit person to love . . . I have never loved without causing harm. ― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child

Professor Severus Snape: There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class. As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion-making. However, for those select few... [stares at Draco Malfoy] Professor Severus Snape: Who possess, the predisposition... I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death. [notices Harry scribbling on his paper] Professor Severus Snape: Then again, maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable that you feel confident enough to not pay attention! [steps over to Harry] Professor Severus Snape: Mister Potter. Our new celebrity.

No thanks,’ said Harry. ‘The poor toilet’s never had anything as horrible as your head down it – it might be sick.’ Then he ran, before Dudley could work out what he’d said.

He wore round glasses held together with a lot of Sellotape because of all the times Dudley had punched him on the nose.

Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well. A Very Merry Christmas to you.

for Jessica, who loves stories, for Anne, who loved them too, and for Di, who heard this one first.

It’s the girls’ toilets!’ Harry gasped.

If the motorbike was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it.

I hope you’re pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed — or worse, expelled. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to bed.

Mr H. Potter The Cupboard under the Stairs 4 Privet Drive Little Whinging Surrey

In fact, Harry had the most peculiar feeling that only he and Hagrid could see it. Before he could mention this, Hagrid had steered him inside.

He had decided to call her Hedwig,

But before he knew it, Harry was shouting. ‘SO YOU HAVEN’T BEEN IN THE MEETINGS, BIG DEAL! YOU’VE STILL BEEN HERE, HAVEN’T YOU? YOU’VE STILL BEEN TOGETHER! ME, I’VE BEEN STUCK AT THE DURSLEYS’ FOR A MONTH! AND I’VE HANDLED MORE THAN YOU TWO’VE EVER MANAGED AND DUMBLEDORE KNOWS IT – WHO SAVED THE PHILOSOPHER’S STONE? WHO GOT RID OF RIDDLE? WHO SAVED BOTH YOUR SKINS FROM THE DEMENTORS?

he looked so handsome and grown-up.

Come to think of it, he wasn’t even sure his nephew was called Harry. He’d never even seen the boy. It might have been Harvey. Or Harold.

Shouldn’ta lost me temper,’ he said ruefully, ‘but it didn’t work anyway. Meant ter turn him into a pig, but I suppose he was so much like a pig anyway there wasn’t much left ter do.

Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows, correcting their grips. Harry and Ron were delighted when she told Malfoy he’d been doing it wrong for years.

Not Slytherin, eh?’ said the small voice. ‘Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it’s all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that – no? Well, if you’re sure – better be GRYFFINDOR!

Hagrid,’ said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. ‘At last. And where did you get that motorbike?’ ‘Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir,’ said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorbike as he spoke. ‘Young Sirius Black lent it me. I’ve got him, sir.

If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn’t realize that love as powerful as your mother’s for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign . . . to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin.

He pulled out the letter and read:   HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY   Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)   Dear Mr Potter, We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.   Yours sincerely,   Minerva McGonagall Deputy Headmistress

He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large moustache.

We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers and the heartstrings of dragons.

Aaah, has ickle Ronnie got somefink on his nosie?” said one of the twins. “Shut up,” said Ron.

Hermione was the last person to do anything against the rules, and here she was, pretending she had, to get them out of trouble. It was as if Snape had started handing out sweets.

he was very fast.

thrown his tortoise through the greenhouse roof

Yer a wizard, Harry.

Harry liked about his own appearance was a very thin scar on his forehead which was shaped like a bolt of lightning.

How very wrong he was.

Your father would have been proud,’ she said. ‘He was an excellent Quidditch player himself.

There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it. . . .

Quite apart from wanting to win, Harry found that he had fewer nightmares when he was tired out after training.

«In fin dei conti, per una mente ben organizzata, la morte non è che una nuova, grande avventura».

«La verità...» sospirò Silente. «È una cosa meravigliosa e terribile, e per questo va trattata con grande cautela».

«È strano quanto essere invisibile possa renderti miope!» osservò Silente, e Harry si sentì sollevato nel vedere che sorrideva.

I hope you’re pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed – or worse, expelled. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to bed.

to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin.

Bring back what we’ve forgot, Just do your best, we’ll do the rest, And learn until our brains all rot.

Snape was trying to save me?

He pushed the door ajar and peered inside – and a horrible scene met his eyes. Snape and Filch were inside, alone. Snape was holding his robes above his knees.

Yeah, Dumbledore’s barking, all right,

Our heads could do with filling With some interesting stuff, For now they’re bare and full of air, Dead flies and bits of fluff,

I’ve decided to call him Norbert,’ said Hagrid, looking at the dragon with misty eyes. ‘He really knows me now, watch. Norbert! Norbert! Where’s Mummy?

is, humans do have a knack of choosing precisely those things which are worst for them.

What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were … you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts …

People say parenting is the hardest job in the world - they're wrong - growing up is. We all just forget how hard it was.

while they tried to remember how to make a Forgetfulness Potion.

He left Quirrell to die; he shows just as little mercy to his followers as his enemies.

What happened down in the dungeons between you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole school knows.

Mr H. Potter The Cupboard under the Stairs 4 Privet Drive

She was a very pretty woman. She had dark red hair and her eyes – her eyes are just like mine, Harry

Mr Dursley sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters …

Now, you two — this year, you behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling me you’ve — you’ve blown up a toilet or —” “Blown up a toilet? We’ve never blown up a toilet.” “Great idea though, thanks, Mum.” “It’s not funny. And look after Ron.” “Don’t worry, ickle Ronniekins is safe with us.” “Shut up,” said Ron again. He was almost as tall as the twins already and his nose was still pink where his mother had rubbed it.

Several boys about Harry’s age had their noses pressed against a window with broomsticks in it. ‘Look,’ Harry heard one of them say, ‘the new Nimbus Two Thousand – fastest ever –’ Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone

It’s obvious,’ said Ron. ‘You can pretend to be waiting for Professor Flitwick, you know.’ He put on a high voice, ‘Oh Professor Flitwick, I’m so worried, I think I got question fourteen b wrong …’ ‘Oh, shut up,’ said Hermione,

«Esistono molti tipi di coraggio» disse Silente sorridendo. «Affrontare i nemici richiede notevole ardimento. Ma altrettanto ne occorre per affrontare gli amici. E pertanto... attribuisco dieci punti al signor Neville Paciock».

These people will never understand him! He’ll be famous — a legend — I wouldn’t be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter Day in the future — there will be books written about Harry — every child in our world will know his name!

The Potters knew very well what he and Petunia thought about them and their kind … He couldn’t see how he and Petunia could get mixed up in anything that might be going on. He yawned and turned over. It couldn’t affect them … How very wrong he was.

Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we’ll find the perfect match here somewhere – I wonder, now – yes, why not – unusual combination – holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple.’ Harry took the wand. He felt a sudden warmth in his fingers.

Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, ‘SLYTHERIN!’ Malfoy went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself. There weren’t many people left now. ‘Moon’ … ‘Nott’ … ‘Parkinson’ … then a pair of twin girls, ‘Patil’ and ‘Patil’ … then ‘Perks, Sally-Anne’ … and then, at last – ‘Potter, Harry!’ As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall. ‘Potter, did she say?’ ‘The Harry Potter?’ The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the Hall full of people craning to get a good look at him. Next second he was looking at the black inside of the hat. He waited. ‘Hmm,’ said a small voice in his ear. ‘Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind, either. There’s talent, oh my goodness, yes – and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that’s interesting … So where shall I put you?’ Harry gripped the edges of the stool and thought, ‘Not Slytherin, not Slytherin.’ ‘Not Slytherin, eh?’ said the small voice. ‘Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it’s all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that – no? Well, if you’re sure – better be GRYFFINDOR!

Yes — of course — but there’s no wood!” Hermione cried, wringing her hands. “HAVE YOU GONE MAD?” Ron bellowed. “ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?” “Oh, right!” said Hermione, and she whipped out her wand, waved it, muttered something, and sent a jet of the same bluebell flames she

A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, 11 o’clock. Harry looked behind him and saw a wrought-iron archway where the ticket box had been, with the words Platform Nine and Three-Quarters on it. He had done it.

Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, Teach us something please, Whether we be old and bald Or young with scabby knees, Our heads could do with filling With some interesting stuff, For now they’re bare and full of air, Dead flies and bits of fluff, So teach us things worth knowing,

Ron, at the next table, wasn’t having much more luck. ‘Wingardium Leviosa!’ he shouted, waving his long arms like a windmill. ‘You’re saying it wrong,’ Harry heard Hermione snap. ‘It’s Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the “gar” nice and long.’ ‘You do it, then, if you’re so clever,’ Ron snarled. Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her gown, flicked her wand and said, ‘Wingardium Leviosa!’ Their feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads. ‘Oh, well done!’ cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. ‘Everyone see here, Miss Granger’s done it!’ Ron was in a very bad temper by the end of the class.

As they entered November, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became icy gray and the lake like chilled steel. Every morning the ground was covered in frost. Hagrid could be seen from the upstairs windows defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch field, bundled up in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves, and enormous beaverskin boots. The Quidditch season had begun. On Saturday, Harry would be playing in his first match after weeks of training: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. If Gryffindor won, they would move up into second place in the House Championship. Hardly anyone had seen Harry play because Wood had decided that, as their secret weapon, Harry should be kept, well, secret. But the news that he was playing Seeker had leaked out somehow, and Harry didn’t know which was worse — people telling him he’d be brilliant or people telling him they’d be running around underneath him holding a mattress. It was really lucky that Harry now had Hermione as a friend. He didn’t know how he’d have gotten through all his homework without her, what with all the last-minute Quidditch practice Wood was making them do. She had also lent him Quidditch Through the Ages, which turned out to be a very interesting read.

Exactly,” said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. “It would be enough to turn any boy’s head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won’t even remember! Can’t you see how much better off he’ll be, growing up away from all that until he’s ready to take it?

«Svelti, su!» disse la madre, e i tre ragazzi si arrampicarono sul treno. Si sporsero dal finestrino per un ultimo bacio di addio e la sorellina più piccola si mise a piangere. «Non piangere, Ginny, ti manderemo stormi di gufi». «Ti manderemo una tavoletta del gabinetto da Hogwarts». «Ma George!» «Sto scherzando, ma’».

At half past eight, Mr. Dursley picked up his briefcase, pecked Mrs. Dursley on the cheek, and tried to kiss Dudley good-bye but missed, because Dudley was now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the walls. “Little tyke,” chortled Mr. Dursley as he left the house. He got into his car and backed out of number four’s drive.

Your mother died to save you. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn’t realize that love as powerful as your mother’s for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign . . . to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin.

ALBUS DUMBLEDORE CURRENTLY HEADMASTER OF HOGWARTS Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the Dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon’s blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling.

«E quella che cos’è?» chiese d’un tratto uno dei gemelli indicando la cicatrice che aveva sulla fronte. «Miseriaccia...» esclamò l’altro gemello. «Non sarai mica per caso...?» «È proprio lui» disse il primo gemello. «Vero?» chiese poi rivolto a Harry. «Che cosa?» chiese Harry. «Harry Potter» risposero in coro i gemelli. «Oh, lui» disse Harry. «Ehm, voglio dire, sì, sono io».

Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, Teach us something please, Whether we be old and bald Or young with scabby knees Our heads could do with filling, With some interesting stuff, For now they're bare and full of air, Dead flies and bits of fluff. So teach us things worth knowing, Bring back what we've forgot, Just do your best, we'll do the rest, And learn until our brains all rot.

really is like going to bed after a very, very long day. After all, to the well-organised mind, death is but the next great adventure. You know, the Stone was really not such a wonderful thing. As much money and life as you could want! The two things most human beings would choose above all – the trouble is, humans do have a knack of choosing precisely those things which are worst for them.

Thirty-six,” he said, looking up at his mother and father. “That’s two less than last year.” “Darling, you haven’t counted Auntie Marge’s present, see, it’s here under this big one from Mummy and Daddy.” “All right, thirty-seven then,” said Dudley, going red in the face. Harry, who could see a huge Dudley tantrum coming on, began wolfing down his bacon as fast as possible in case Dudley turned the table over.

I had no idea, when I was first asked by my agents to audition for a film called Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, that it would be any different in terms of scale to the jobs I’d done previously. In my mind it was another Borrowers: a relatively high-budget film with lots of children and, if I played my cards right, a part for me. But if I didn’t get a part? That was okay too. It wasn’t the be-all and end-all. There was a good chance something else would come along.

Nothing like this man had ever been seen in Privet Drive. He was tall, thin and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak which swept the ground and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man’s name was Albus Dumbledore.

If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn’t realize that love as powerful as your mother’s for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign . . . to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good.

with making the Sorcerer’s Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The Stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal. There have been many reports of the Sorcerer’s Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicolas Flamel, the noted alchemist and opera lover. Mr. Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year, enjoys a quiet life in Devon with his wife, Perenelle (six hundred and fifty-eight).

A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you’d have thought he’d just popped out of the ground. The cat’s tail twitched and its eyes narrowed. Nothing like this man had ever been seen in Privet Drive. He was tall, thin and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak which swept the ground and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man’s name was Albus Dumbledore.

«Ehi, guarda... anche Harry ha un maglione alla Weasley!» Fred e George indossavano due maglioni blu, uno con una grossa F in giallo, e l’altro con una G. «Quello di Harry è più bello del nostro, però» disse Fred tenendolo aperto perché lo vedessero. «Naturalmente, mamma ci mette più impegno se non sei della famiglia». «E tu, Ron, perché non ti sei messo il tuo?» chiese George. «Su, dai, mettilo anche tu, sono belli caldi». «Io odio il bordeaux» piagnucolò Ron sconfortato, mentre se lo infilava dalla testa. «Sul tuo non c’è nessuna lettera» osservò George. «Segno che mamma crede che tu non ti dimentichi come ti chiami. Ma neanche noi siamo stupidi... sappiamo benissimo che ci chiamiamo Gred e Forge!»

Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night. “I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall,” said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply. Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four. “Good luck, Harry,” he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone. A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky,

number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you’d expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn’t hold with such nonsense. Mr Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large moustache. Mrs Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbours. The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere. The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. They didn’t think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters. Mrs Potter was Mrs Dursley’s

Welcome to Hogwarts,’ said Professor McGonagall. ‘The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room. ‘The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours. ‘The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting.’ Her

Mr and Mrs Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you’d expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn’t hold with such nonsense. Mr Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large moustache. Mrs Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbours. The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere. The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. They didn’t think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters. Mrs Potter was Mrs Dursley’s sister, but they hadn’t met for several years; in fact, Mrs Dursley pretended she didn’t have a sister, because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as unDursleyish as it was possible to be. The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbours would say if the Potters arrived